Contemplating

-Maybe I should do another pageant. For validation if I win, for consolation if I lose.
-I ought to call that one girl that I accidentally called "Chippie" in ninth grade. She was new, I thought Chippie was her name, I didn't know Chippie was a word for whore, and I just feel really bad. Still. (What was her real name?)
-Either that's my biological clock sounding its alarm a little early, or I just miss my cat.
-There's this pink crocheted duster I want. But can I really wear pink after fifteen years of screaming, "I hate pink" at everyone who brought me something pink?
-I'll bet I'd get a record deal in a second if I was missing a finger or two. Which sounds better, Nine-Fingered Singer/Pianist or Eight-Fingered Singer/Pianist?
-Did my dad really compare himself to Beyonce at ward choir practice, or was that a dream?
-How come swearing feels so good sometimes? (Usually late at night, when my House won't load)
-I love watching America's Next Top Model. It makes me feel fierce and I don't care who knows it.
-In four hours, when it's 9:00 and those women come over to learn guitar from me, I will be in a state and a mood if I get no sleep.